


Satisfied

by e1even



Category: Prince of Stride: Alternative (Anime)
Genre: Anal Sex, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-07
Updated: 2016-01-07
Packaged: 2018-05-12 08:24:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5659438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/e1even/pseuds/e1even
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fujiwara and Yagami get more familiar with each other('s bodies.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Satisfied

**Author's Note:**

> Just saw the first episode! It was really interesting, and honestly, I'm weirdly reminded of Free!, but I'm really excited to see where this all goes. 
> 
> I'd imagine this takes place some point in the ambiguous future? Underage tag is on, though, since I suppose I didn't specify that either.
> 
> Also I have no excuse for this. Enjoy!

Fujiwara can't take his mind off Yagami. The way the sun is shining through his pale hair, how some strands of it, damp from humidity stick to his brow. It was perfect. Fujiwara feels like he’s been taken aback by the sight of Yagami a couple times now, but never, ever like this.

Yagami lying back on his bed, one knee held up to his chest and his free hand in between his legs, pushing in a couple fingers. Fujiwara can’t remember where they got lube but Yagami’s breath hitches and it’s all he can take before he’s leaning down over Yagami, pressing a kiss to his soft lips, taking in the way it feels to have Yagami like this. It’s all Yagami can do to pant against him, and Fujiwara’s trailing a hand down his thin chest to stroke his cock, hard, and Yagami bucks against him, letting out a helpless groan from all the stimulation, all the attention Fujiwara's lavishing on him.

“Let me help.” Fujiwara says, nipping at Yagami’s jaw, continuing to move his hand slowly, firmly. Yagami just sighs against him, lets his head fall back, hips move slowly with him, and Fujiwara can’t help but think about how good Yagami looks like this, how hard he’s getting just from watching his face, his reactions. It can't last long, nothing can when they both were like this.

“Lower.” Yagami moans, and Fujiwara’s a little surprised, but moves almost seamlessly along with him, the hand not holding him up sliding down to where Yagami’s hand is pressing in, and it’s slick, and it makes Fujiwara’s mouth water a little bit, slide in a finger alongside Yagami’s two. He sighs at that, high, and strained. Despite the slightly pained sound, Yagami's still rocking back against the fingers, trying to get him in deeper, more of him inside, and Fujiwara’s pulling his hand back, and pushing it back in. It’s off rhythm with Yagami, but to feel both the fingers and the tight heat and all the ideas it was giving him was making his head spin, but it’s not long before Yagami’s other hand drops to hold onto his wrist, stop him from pushing back in. 

“You good?” Fujiwara asks while pulling away his hand, watching Yagami’s adam’s apple bob when he swallows, the hazy look in his eyes and he's so beautiful like this.

“Yeah, just, yeah.” Yagami pants out, taking a moment to lick his lips, and Fujiwara was transfixed by the sight, the motion. He can't get distracted. They were both moving on. Fujiwara’s grabbing a condom, fumbling, taking an embarrassing amount of time to put it on right and put more lube on himself and he can hear Yagami trying to position himself on the bed, shuffling around, like he can’t figure out how they’re going to do this. He had no idea how they were going to do this. It didn't matter.

“Yeah?” Fujiwara asks again, looking at how Yagami’s sprawled out, legs open, cock dripping and a heavy flush colouring his cheeks. Yagami just pulls him closer by his arm, tries to kiss him and misses his lips, just to the side of his mouth, and Fujiwara gets the point, awkwardly leaning over Yagami.

He’s climbing on the bed, and Yagami looks desperate, on his back, head tossed to the side, and hands holding his legs open. Who was Fujiwara to do anything but line himself up with his hand, begin to press in, and right away the sensation makes him buck forwards a little unevenly. He's trying to control himself, keep his movement steady, but whenever he slips it makes Yagami’s voice hitch, make some desperate sound. He manages to keep it up until he’s entirely sheathed in that tight heat. Fujiwara’s now just trying to stay hunched over Yagami whose face is contorted in the most amazing, perfect way, trying not to move until they're both ready. It takes almost no time before he's opening his mouth to ask but Yagami just looks him in the eye, making him feel frozen in his place with whatever's running through both of them.

“Yeah.” Yagami breathes, and Fujiwara's not thinking, just pulling out, pushing back in, in love with the feeling of how Yagami’s so snug, wet around him. He's moaning and Yagami's whining with the sensation, and Fujiwara's somehow satisfied by the knowledge it feels so impossibly good for the both of them. And it’s only a matter of time before Yagami’s trying to urge him to go faster, Fujiwara to fuck him like he meant it, and he’s trying. Urged on by Yagami’s moans, and gasps, and the way Yagami was reacting to his own groans, the way he was looking at him. He couldn't get deep enough, get enough leverage behind his thrusts. Fujiwara was starting to get frustrated, his hands were slipping in the sheets, and the position wasn’t quite right for what they both needed. He can’t thrust hard enough like this.

Yagami whines when he pulls out, but doesn’t stop Fujiwara standing up, turning Yagami so that he's on the bed, legs dangling off the edge, still on his back,  but Fujiwara’s standing beside it. He's pulling Yagami closer, prompting his legs to hold on around his hips and he can thrust so much deeper like this, make it so much better.

The first thrust takes Yagami by surprise, but he’s into it by the next, moaning, eyes flying open, looking desperately at Fujiwara, and he can’t keep the slow pace he’d planned. He can't hold back at all. All of his plans are flying out the window and it’s all because of Yagami. This was nothing like he thought it would be. This was perfect.

Fujiwara’s thrusting faster now, deeper, using the better leverage to fuck him even harder, addicted to the way it makes Yagami cry out, clench down, writhe and cling to him. It’s getting harder to breathe properly like this, the air just felt so hot, humid. Yagami’s bucking up against him, trying to keep up with his rough thrusts, but he can’t seem to keep the rhythm. 

“Take it easy.” Fujiwara says, panting himself, trying to keep his hands steady on Yagami’s hips, supporting him, holding him in place. Yagami’s not responding in words as much as open syllables, breathy sighs and moans and gasps and as much as Fujiwara knows Yagami’s being loud, probably to the point that if anyone was around, they’d hear it. It would be a hundred times more concerning if Fujiwara could care, wanted anything but to hear Yagami coming apart underneath him. Yagami hardly seemed to be in control of himself, too needy, too desperate, lost in everything he was feeling.

The air around them feels too hot, and Fujiwara couldn’t want to do anything else but watch Yagami’s face like this, flushed, eyes shut tight like it would help him bear everything he’s feeling, keep a handle on reality, and he’s beautiful. Fujiwara was starting to lose his grip as well, so captivated by how Yagami looked, felt. Both of their breathing is going ragged, and Yagami’s beginning to squirm, desperately moving back against Fujiwara, and some synapses finally connect in his frazzled brain.

“Riku, are you?” Fujiwara begins to say, and he can feel himself losing control. Yagami’s legs around his waist only tightened, movements growing more desperate, and moans getting louder.

“Yes, just, d-don’t stop.” Yagami cries, and Fujiwara knows his pace is getting uneven and at some point Yagami just whimpers like he’s breaking, bucking against Fujiwara like he wants him as deep as possible, and squirming like he can’t handle the sensations coursing through him. Fujiwara’s hardly aware enough to recognize Yagami’s coming, chasing that feeling himself, fucking into him harder, listening to the way it makes Yagami’s voice hitch on his uneven breaths.

Fujiwara comes not long after, fingers digging into Yagami’s hips, shaking and he swears he stops thinking for a second. It takes forever for his breathing to even out, him to pull out, mostly spent, but it’s a mistake to look back after he throws away the condom.

He thought he was done, but somehow, Yagami looks so amazing, so tempting, blissed out and breaths shaky. Fujiwara can't get enough. Yagami’s still lying below him, body quivering, deep flush on his pale cheeks, and he’s beautiful, blond hair splayed over the pillow, and Fujiwara wants to keep this vision for himself, wants to see more of him.

Fujiwara's moving back to the bed, sitting up, feels the wobble in his knees when he’s sitting back to further part Yagami’s legs, even further to lean in between them, pull his knees up so his feet rested on the bed, and Yagami’s coming back to himself, opening his eyes.

“Takeru?” Yagami asks, voice raspy, body still lax, long legs spread, thighs quivering and he’s a wreck underneath Fujiwara’s fingers, lips. His whole body’s laid on display for Fujiwara like this, and it’s perfect.

Fujiwara chooses a different way to answer, moving his hands down to part Yagami’s cheeks. At the first stroke of his tongue at Yagami’s entrance his back is arching. choking on a whine, clutching at the sheets as if for dear life. Yagami sounds wrecked, a little dazed, a little desperate and it only spurs Fujiwara on.

That reaction was all the reason Fujiwara needed to continue, so he’s doing it again, and again, relishing in the sounds Yagami’s making, the needy whimpers and the way he’s almost flinching away from his touch, but pushing back against it too.

“Wait! Please, no, ah! S-sensitive… Don’t stop, ngh, Takeru please.” Yagami pants out, squirming like he has no idea if he wants to feel more, get away, and Fujiwara notes somewhere in the back of his mind that Yagami’s even flushed down here, so messy, wet, and it’s so, so hot.

Yagami’s fingers are still clawing at the sheets and Fujiwara could never be as thankful as he is in this moment that Yagami’s so sensitive down here. He tastes a little bit like the lube, but mostly, it doesn’t matter, the only thing that matters is the way Yagami’s incapable of stifling his moans, shaking so hard under his touch.

Fujiwara just slides his tongue inside Yagami, pushing past the resistance and Yagami whines, high and pleading, and Fujiwara can’t resist, brings down a hand to slide in a finger, and that makes Yagami even louder, squirm even more desperately. Two fingers, and Yagami screams, voice hoarse, and it’s exactly what Fujiwara wants to hear, needs. He’s licking around his fingers and pulling them apart and pushing in and out slowly, and Yagami’s acting like he’s lost all restraint, all control over the sounds he’s making, and it’s the end.

Yagami comes all over himself, sobbing and shaking and Fujiwara’s certain he’s never seen anything so perfect, working him through it with two fingers, curling up and thrusting deep into Yagami. Fujiwara's not sure he'll ever get enough of watching him like this, shaking apart underneath him. He’s pressing kisses up Yagami’s body, and then Yagami goes limp. His chest is heaving, trying to pull in enough air, and he’s beautiful.

Fujiwara withdraws his hand, unceremoniously reaches over to the box of tissues they left on the floor to wipe some of the mess off of Yagami’s body, curl up around him, hold him in his arms while his breath continues to hiccup a little, like he can’t quite remember how to breathe and Fujiwara’s all out of energy. His bed was a mess, their clothes were everywhere. The sun continued to set.  
  
They’d sort this out in a few minutes. Or later than that.


End file.
